Map Note: Small Person on Fire
by etsuyo
Summary: Not really any pairings, just humour writing parody goodness… Give it a looksie, R&R Plzkthnx…
1. The Map

If you've never read Treasure Island, you should be ashamed; you shouldn't however, disregarded this fic. Read it anyway, you don't need previous experience with pirates to laugh if you think text is funny. Or shake your head in disgust if you are less than impressed with what you see. Either way; Plz Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Someone told me I don't own FMA. Understandably, I was disappointed. I got over it. Someone else told me I don't own Treasure Island and that it was written by a man named Robert Lewis Stevenson. Damn him.

The idea for _this_ fic, however, is mine. (Unless it's been done before… sorrysorrysorry… I didn't know!)

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**The Map**

In a very small town that probably doesn't exist anymore, in a comfortably sized inn that definitely does not exist anymore, on a door that held little credibility in the first place, someone knocked. A few moments passed before the shuffle of feet were to be heard behind the solid oak barrier, and finally, the door opened to reveal a short and underfed young boy with a bright white name tag, as only appropriate for someone working in the hospitality industry.

The man who had knocked on the door beamed down at the young boy, "Well hello there," He leaned down and squinted at the child's shirt, "Edward." He nodded before continuing once more.

"Do you have a room, perchance?"

The boy named Edward looked rather bored, this was because nothing_ever_ happened that even emanated 'interesting' in the small inn his mother ran, and briefly nodded before standing back to let the man past him and take in the wonders of the inside of the door.

The place had a distinctly musty and pathetic look about it, and Ed let his eyes glaze over the usual patrons hiding in their corners surrounded by clouds of smoke with a look of disinterest, while he led the new customer up the stairs to the nearest available room.

"Here." He said in a manner that reflected the slow way he raised his arm to indicate which room the newcomer should settle in. "20p a night." He added as an afterthought.

Static opposite of the young boy, the man smiled brilliantly down upon him; "Thankyou! Would you mind helping me carry my bags in?"

Ed did mind, very much. And he would have told this man too, if he hadn't suddenly received a small chest in the face. "Uhhh…" came his voice from behind it.

"That's the spirit!" The man said cheerily, stepping through into the small room. "Put it on the table there's a good lad."

Ed followed the order for lack of anywhere convenient to break the object on at present, and once he had set it down had a better look at it. The small chest was locked tight, and he soon realised he would be able to stop calling the man variations of 'the man' inside his head.

The words: 'Hughes' Chest. Nothing Important Inside. Hands Off!' were scribbled on a piece of paper and sticky-taped to the outside of the chest as a label.

Ed couldn't help himself, "So, what's in the chest?" He asked.

Two seconds later he regretted it. "You want to know what's in the chest?" Hughes said, with much more enthusiasm than his warning note would imply.

Ed wasn't sure whether to agree, disagree, or run away. He noticed Hughes was standing in the doorway. "Uh… yes?" It was worth a shot, anyway.

Hughes' smile never faltered, and he rushed forward with enthusiasm, drawing a key from a chain around his neck and inserting it into the lock gracefully and without a pause in his dash. It was almost like he'd done this before. _Many_ times.

Ed was now afraid to find out what the contents of the not-so-mysterious box were. He stepped backwards just a little.

"Here!" Hughes said proudly, picking a bunch of papers from the top of a rather large and dishevelled pile that probably became so dishevelled by frequent rearranging of the contents of the chest. Such as if Hughes often withdrew the contents to look at them, or force other people to look at them, whichever the case may be.

They were a series of charcoal drawings, probably not made by Hughes, if Ed was any guess of the artistic ability of people older than three. Although, because Hughes didn't say anything, just held them infront of Ed's nose, so that the ends of the older mans grin stuck out behind them, Ed could only assume:

"You're… a very good artist, Mr. Hughes." He said, hesitantly.

This seemed to be a hilarious assumption to have made, however, as the man before him promptly burst into a short cackle of laughter. "No no no. These are the wonderful drawings of my precious daughter Elysia!"

They looked more like an extremely un-coordinated person had decided to try writing with their bad hand, then dipped the paper in water, then tried again, then slept on it. The hypothetical person would probably have woken up wondering when he had been punched in the face, and how on earth he could have missed it.

"She's… a very good artist too." The huge smile of the proud father didn't leave Ed with much heart to criticise the poor girl.

"That she is!" Hughes nodded and his eyes became mistily reminiscent; he was probably thinking of his little bundle of inept joy.

This prompted Ed's eyes to wander, and they wandered over to the only interesting part of the room; the opened chest. The stack of paper was smeared thoroughly with charcoal, and Ed could accurately guess what was on the flip side of the papers. Laying next to them, however, was a small parcel held together with little more than flimsy string. In-between the ties a small folded piece of paper was tucked.

"What's that one?" Ed asked, pointing towards the bundle.

"Hmmm?" Hughes tore his eyes away from the smudges to connect the hand signals. The same eyes widened in recognition.

"Oh? That? Not important. Got to unpack." He abandoned the pictures, placing them back onto the stack of countless ones with probably very similar characteristics, and went to attend his other luggage. Ed, however, wasn't to be distracted.

While Hughes heaved a second suitcase onto the thin bed on the other side of the room, Ed trespassed into the man's chest. He picked up the parcel, and withdrew the trapped scrap of paper, opening it between his fingers.

A small and round black spot stood out not only because it was the only thing on the piece of paper, but because it was a pleasant change to see something that had been drawn by someone much older than three, that was sure.

Ed's eyes widened and he almost dropped what he was holding.

Well, not really.

"You're a pirate?"

Hughes turned around and didn't miss a beat. "No, my daughter is an aspiring artist, I thought we covered this?"

Ed raised his eyebrow.

"Ok ok. I'm a pirate. Happy?"

Ed grinned. Yes, indeed.

"You've been given the Black Spot!" Ed was still grinning, which would have deceived any observer into thinking that being issued such a slip of paper was a good thing.

"It would imply, yes…"

Ed indicated to the package in his other hand; "This anything important?"

Hughes frowned, "My, you're quite inquisitive, aren't you?"

Other people had used the terms 'Nosey little git', 'Prying Pint-Sized Midget', 'Curious little snot', and 'Get yer eyes away from thar yer filthy bastard!'

"Yes." Ed said innocently.

Hughes looked like he was doing some serious thinking for a few moments, then seemed to reach a conclusion.

"Edward," he took the opportunity to refer to the name badge once again before flowing into his speech; "There is something very important in that little bundle. I'm… probably not going to be around much longer to take care of it… so I want you to take over the job."

"You know, I'm probably not the _best _person to be trusting with this…" Ed said hesitantly… wouldn't the discovery of something secret and possibly valuable send him on a dangerous and hazardous quest in which he would encounter many strange and unusual people, possibly even needing to face life or death situations daily?

"But what am I saying?" Ed continued hurriedly, "Of course I'm the best person to be trusting with this!"

Hughes frowned for less than a second, then brightened considerably, "Right then, take good care if it, mind! And here, some pictures for the road." Hughes shoved some random charcoal stains into Ed's unwilling hands, and finally ushered him out the door.

The door closed heavily behind the young boy, and Ed stood staring at the sealed and important package, so suddenly bestowed upon him. He wondered at its contents, and whether the title of the chapter could possibly hold any clues?

He would find out soon enough.

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Well, I'd love to know what you thought of it! You can flame if you want, I'm asking for opinions, after all… But constructive criticism is always more appropriate. And comments on the general idea of it are welcome too! …It's just something that sorta popped into my head… just now… randomly… let me know if you want more! 


	2. Map, Ship, Crew

I hope people can approve of the characters I've parodied in this chapter – the story is starting to develop after the previous chapter, which was more like an introduction anyway… If you've never read the manga of FMA, you might be totally unawares of who this Ling person is. That's a pity, but don't stop reading once you reach his name just because of confusion! Finish the chapter then go read the manga! (in this specific order, mind you…) But not before you review, of course )

Disclaimer: I do not own FMA or Treasure Island. Ora hard copy of theFMA Manga, but I'm hoping to change that...

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**Map, Ship, Crew**

It was not long after at all, that the pirate Hughes was seen for the last time. He wasn't exactly missed, although most people knew almost immediately that he was no longer there. There was a distinct lack of charcoal smudged papers flying around one morning, and when the cheery man didn't come down the stairs in a thunder of feet and flourish of uncoordinated art work, everyone in the inn realised something was up.

Both Edward and his mother searched for the man all day – he hadn't paid for a single nights rent – but when, by sundown, they realised that he was nowhere to be found, they swiftly abandoned their search.

This was a little disappointing, even a corpse might have had some change left on it.

Ed's mother, after the incident, seemed to slip into a steady stream of tetchiness and depression. She was worried because she thought whomever had given Hughes the black spot might come back to their inn and try to claim the rest of his belongs, whereas she already had plans to pawn it off.

Ed tried to assure her that no one in their right mind would want to steal Hughes' most precious possessions, and also that they were probably not even worth posting on EBay, but she wouldn't listen.

Later that night Ed's mother ransacked her own guest room, and, taking everything looking remotely sellable, sent her son off to stay with friends and departed for the nearest market place.

Ed wondered what her plan was, exactly, at three in the morning.

Either way, Edward himself arrived at the residence of his life-long friend Doctor Winry, some many respectable hours later.

* * *

One thing he had discovered about grown ups was that they were always having tea, no matter when you rocked up.

"The Doctor is currently at tea." The Housekeeper informed him, with a nose that could have given the sharpest dagger in the world a run for its money.

"I probably should have seen that coming." Ed conceded.

The lady nodded and her nose cut dust particles in two as it whipped down and then back up into the heavens. "You may wait in the sitting room."

Ed desperately wanted to come back with; "May I really?", but he _had_ been awake now for almost twenty four hours straight, so he was a little tired and below sarcasm at present. So he followed the Housekeeper dutifully into the sitting room.

There was only just enough time for Ed to doze off before he was tapped sharply on the shoulder and brought back to reality.

"Bored already? You only just got here."

Ed didn't quite have a reply for that, but he did look up to see the Doctor, Winry, standing above him and sporting a somewhat amused frown. If it were at all possible for someone to combine the two. Ed also noticed that she was not alone, obviously she hadn't been at tea all by herself.

Ed recognised the man standing beside Winry, dressed in clothes so elaborate that he wouldn't have been surprised to see a label that read: "For Pompous Gentlemen – With Lots of Money ter Wayste!" hanging off one of the cuffs. He was one of the richest people in town – descended from a Count or something.

Next to Winry, Ling glared down at him, although you couldn't really tell.

Ed, still half asleep, decided it might be a good idea to do his best to placate the situation; "Mum… went into town… for awhile. Says I should see what you were up to. You know, for lack of anything better to do…"

Ed managed to yawn twice whilst speaking his last sentence.

Lucky for him the hostility seemed to have fled the room by now, and Ling in particular was interested in the small wrapped bundle that Ed had had the sense to bring with him. It was certainly one of his finer moments.

Now in the mans hands, Ling turned it over and at the same time asked young Edward what it was.

"That's a very good question."

Doctor Winry, now fully intrigued, snatched the package for her own, and with fingers that at other times had been known to relieve a man of his leg, unbound the string from the paper.

In a moment of sheer politeness, she placed the ready package on the coffee table so that each person could have a clear view, and used a single hand to push back the paper and reveal, (finally) its contents.

The paper contained paper.

What a climax.

Ed reached forwards instinctively, and grabbed the folded valuable. He opened the map, no surprises there.

It was average-sized and rather ridden with all sorts of lines in at least four different colours. There were stains and a slightly ripped corner, definite signs of crinkles and a legend that didn't make much sense. For example, a blue cross represented tasty berries, but an identical blue cross represented 'That which ye wouldst not want to eat'. A tiny red cross indicated a Small Person on Fire, and Ed had sudden premonitions that he wasn't too pleased about.

More importantly, a large red cross indicated mountains of treasure, and this particular map note seemed to instantly clear the minds of any other thoughts previously inhabiting them, once the three onlookers became clued into it.

"This must be legendary Hohenheim's treasure!" Ling exclaimed, his eyes stretching almost to a normal size in his moment of recollection and surprise.

"By George, I think you're right!" Doctor Winry looked momentarily like she would have been better off in a tweed suit with a pipe, a smile spreading over her face.

Ed was less shocked and more to the point; "So, I take it there's a shitload of money to be made finding this lot?"

Winry winked, "Especially when you put it like that."

He almost said: 'Well, what are we waiting for then?' followed by a quick jumped into the air and a march out the door with the worlds best 'can-do' attitude printed across his face, but he still had _some_ self-esteem, so he didn't.

Instead he said quite hesitantly; "Well, seems to me we're the only ones to have seen this map for awhile…" He left the rest of the sentence clinging to the air, hoping that it would find its way through into the other brains of the room.

It hit Ling first.

He grinned devilishly, "Which seems to _me_ that all of us here could be coming into some money fairly soon."

Although both Winry and Ed felt that Ling had quite enough money to begin with, neither of them was going to argue the point. Dancing gold coin fairies were interrupting their thought processes.

Everyone sat in contemplative, awesome, silence.

Suddenly, making the other two jump, Ling dove into a rant concerning expenses. Part of it, the part they heard as he managed a few lengths of the room and spoke a large part of the conversation to the opposite wall, said; "I'll sponsor the trip, of course, Lord knows I'll have quite enough more money after our little expedition to more than cover the costs I'll have to dish out for the time being." The next bit the wall seemed quite interested in, and one of the Rockbell family vases, too.

Jumping for a second time, it was Winry's turn to scare poor Edward.

"Well, I shall certainly accompany you!" she announced, striking a pose with one finger pointing determinedly in the air; dignity wasn't as much of an issue with her.

Ed almost glared, "You can't; there are no chicks in this story."

She glared right back at him. "You're letting Lust in!"

"I am?" Ed ogled, then quickly corrected the question; "I mean, the writer is?"

Winry nodded, she could feel triumph approaching from a mile away.

Ed still wasn't quite sure why she was directing the question at _him_. It's not like it was his choice who got into the story and who didn't. She looked, however, like she wanted some decision on the matter from him, rather than the writer, so he sighed and said; "Yeah sure, whatever, count yourself in."

She anime-punched the air in an exclamation of happiness. She had been introduced fairly early on, and, although Hughes was a definite exception, that pretty much secured her position anyway.

"Well, what are we waiting for then?" Ling beamed back at them.

Edward's inner monologue groaned, and allowed him a momentary stereotypical streak; this was a going to be a long trip…

* * *

Ed didn't see Ling again for two weeks. An emotion didn't accompany the situation, it was just a fact. When the three plotting adventurers reassembled, it was not at Doctor Winry's house, but at the largest port in the area. It teemed with life rather like a stale crust of bread with honey teems with ants after it has been left alone on the kitchen counter for a few days because someone's roommate didn't clean up after themselves. Again.

Basically, there were a lot of people there, and each one of them seemed to want something. Whether it was passage onboard a departing vessel, or to take a wallet off your hands while you were distracted by a performing monkey, when you walked down the street from point A to point B, you were likely to be hassled at least six times by four different people.

So it took Winry and Edward thirty minutes to reach the inn Ling was staying at, and get up to his room, even though they had been dropped off two streets away. Their pockets also felt mysteriously lighter.

"Ah you made it!" Ling smiled and smoked a pipe uncharacteristically.

Winry muttered something recognitive and placed her bags down, then she got straight to the point.

"Have you managed to secure a ship yet?"

Ling puffed away, "Yes, I have. She's called the _Hispaniola"_

"And how do you pronounce that, exactly?" Ed asked.

They both stared at him before they moved on.

"Excellent." Winry said cheerfully, "And what about a crew to man it? I'd like to hope you didn't think we three alone could undertake the task."

Ling scoffed, showing that no, he wasn't that stupid. "'course I hired a crew. All that I've been doing this last week. I must say, there are a lot of willing hands around this dock. But me, I picked the best I did!" He to a moment to look proud of whomever he had chosen, and Ed hoped he would just hurry up and get to the point.

"Met a nice young…er… man…" He left a question mark unpronounced in his head, "at the pub down the road. Very nice guy. Not only did he volunteer himself for a very reasonable wage, he also suggested a number of other people whom he said were 'good fine chaps and a lady who you could do no wrong by and he wouldn't see himself on the ship without 'em'. Well, if his friends were as nice as he, I couldn't say no! So I hired them all on the spot, and now our boat is fully loaded!"

Ed's eyes widened; _was he born stupid, or is this a bi-product of his being couped up in a palace for most of his life?_

Winry had a slightly nicer way of putting it, "Uh… are you sure such a spontaneous commitment was such a good idea?"

Ling looked at her like a cat does when you stop patting it and try to pay attention to anything else.

Winry caved. "So, what are their names then? And of this favourite sailor of yours?"

Ling's expression left him, and he suddenly looked reminiscent and thoughtful; "Actually they all have rather weird names… like Greed, and Lust, and Wrath… I mean, what happened to good old fashioned pirate names like Billy, and Jack, and Beatrice the Demanding?"

They stared at him.

"My cousin." He explained nonchalantly.

There was a chorus of sympathetic "Oh.."'s.

Ling puffed one last time on his pipe, and then placed it down on the windowsill. "Shall we go take a look at her then?"

* * *

Ok people, we're going to hope for at least one review this time! I know you can do it! 


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